The Walking Dead: Broken
by Whitey Ria
Summary: AU. She had lost everything - her mom, her dad, Kenny, Lee - there was nothing left for her. There are those who might still cling to some small hope, who still think there is something left to save in this world. But Clementine understands - this world is broken, just like her.
1. Days are Numbered

**The Walking Dead: Broken**

The Walking Dead Game ©Telltale Games

**Probably to no one's surprise, this is another Alternate Universe story of the Walking Dead game. Most of you will probably stop reading after the notice, but hopefully some of you will stick around long enough to reach the end.**

**Now this takes place in season 2 of the Walking Dead Game, starting up directly after the 16 month Timeskip. However, Clementine will be sharing the role of the protagonist with a woman named Ava, who serves as both a mentor and antithesis to Clementine. Another addition is the mysterious Black Death, who is constantly hunting Clementine for reasons unknown.**

**Now if I haven't completely driven you away, please enjoy the first chapter of The Walking Dead: Broken.**

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**Episode One: Days Are Numbered**

She was cold…she was tired…she was hungry…

But Clementine knew this was the way things had to be – the way things had become since the first days of "The Outbreak", as they called it.

It had been 843 days since the world went to hell. Clementine knew this because she had ticked the days away in her mind, mentally recording the events as a way of keeping her sane, as a way of making her remember how fucked up the world really was.

On Day 0, her babysitter had been bitten; she couldn't even remember the face or name of the woman anymore. Day 94 marked the first time she had unknowingly eaten human meat. Back then she thought she would never have touched the stuff again, but that before she realized the sacrifices needed to survive. Day 109 had been the point where everything fell apart – Lily, Carley, Duck, and Katjaa had left her one way or another. Day 111 was turning point of her life – the day she was forced to give up her innocent fantasy in favor of this unforgiving reality – the day she was forced to shoot Lee…

Lee…

Clementine shook her head, bringing herself back to the present.

There she was, eleven years of age, lost somewhere in the middle of the forests of North Carolina, staring dimly into the dying flames of their pathetic campfire. Sitting on a worm-rotted log in the thinnest shirt and jeans she could find did nothing to help against the chilly October showers. At this rate, the weasel she had spent hours catching and skinning would never cook. That would give Christa one more thing to blame her for.

Clementine turned her eyes on the dark-skinned woman sitting just a couple of feet from her. She knew that Christa was staring at the dying embers only as a reason to not look or speak to Clementine. She had expected that – it had been routine since Day 356, when Omid had died because of her.

Clementine had been careless and because of her, some stranger had snuck up on Clementine and snatched the gun she had left sitting on the sink. Omid had bravely tried to save her, but the noise of the bathroom door had spooked the assailant and she shot Omid without a second thought. Christa had gotten her revenge, shooting the assailant in the chest in spite of her apology, but she had been too late. Omid was dead and Clementine's gun had been the weapon that caused it.

Though she never said it out loud, she knew Christa blamed her and only tolerated Clementine because of her promise to Lee. A week after the incident, Clementine had thought there might be some hope of mending their relationship, but then her and Omid's baby died for reasons unknown and with it any hope of reconnecting with her guardian.

Clementine shook her head again. This was not the time to think about the past. It was over, everyone was dead. Right now, she needed to focus on the matter at hand.

"Christa, talk to me," Clementine asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

Predictably, she ignored Clementine, even looked a little irritated as she stood up and walked over to the fire, purposely distancing herself. Clementine stared at her feet, sighing in annoyance. She knew she should feel sorry for Christa for losing Omid and the baby, but she wasn't the only one who lost everything. Clementine had lost her family, her friends, her home, and Lee and she had managed to get over it. Her sympathy was beginning to reach it limits.

"This'll never work," said Christa, stoking the tiny embers. "Look at this…it's pathetic. The wood's too wet to burn. There's more smoke and flame. At this rate, we'll be eating this for breakfast."

"What were you expecting?" Clementine said irritably. "It's raining in the middle of winter and there isn't a lot of wood that can burn properly without setting the forest on fire."

"I wasn't asking for excuses," said Christa. "We have to find something that can burn, anything. Won't be easy in the dark and in the rain. You should be doing this, not me. Tending a fire so you can cook and stay warm…it's something you have to be able to do, Clementine. Otherwise…"

"I've already done plenty," Clementine argued. "It wasn't magic that caught that weasel and skinned it so that we can have a meal. That was me."

"If this is a meal, they we might as well be dead," Christa mumbled under her breath.

The pair went silent again. Clementine could actually feel the tension building up between them, like a bomb waiting to go off.

"We can't stay in one place for too long," said Clementine. "It's too dangerous. We need to keep moving."

"All we do, all we've ever done is move," Christa said with a scowl. "But we never seem to get anywhere."

Clementine returned the glare and huddled her arms around herself as a particularly strong breeze blew by.

"I'm freezing."

"You think this is bad," said Christa, "wait until we get up to Wellington, then talk to me about cold. If we make it. We still have a couple hard months ahead of us. This rain will turn to sleet, then ice, then snow. It won't be easy."

"And what makes you think it'll be better at Wellington than anywhere else?" Clementine questioned. "We've heard about these 'sanctuaries' for months – Crawford, Woodbury, The Prison – they all ended the same way. How will Wellington be any different?"

"It just will, all right?" Christa snarled. Her fingers were flexing, looking very anxious to wrap themselves around Clementine's throat. "It has to. We have nothing else left. We just need to keep moving north."

Clementine thought it would be wise to stay quiet for a little while. Christa had already been on the edge for months and it looked like she was ready to crack at any moment. No need for push her any further. Though she knew Christa was desperately clinging to the small ray of hope that Wellington offered, Clementine was already prepared for disappointment. She had learned long ago that they were only avoiding the inevitable. No matter how long it took, the dead would always win – this was the last truth of this new, hellish world.

After trying, and failing, to fan the flames of the campfire, Christa stood up.

"I'm gonna look for more wood," she said. "You just keep the fire lit.

And just like that, Christa walked deeper into the dark forest, leaving Clementine alone with a skinned weasel and a dying pyre. Scratched that last part – the flames had finally gone out. Clementine groaned inwardly. If Christa came back with the fire was out, she really would kill Clementine. Better take care of it quick.

Clementine walked around to the hollow section of the log she had sat on, reaching inside for the backpack she had hidden inside. Since Omid's death, she had taken to hiding her possessions when they stopped to rest. She didn't want to take the chance of someone else turning her own gun against her again, especially if that person was Christa.

Clementine opened the backpack. She suddenly wished she hadn't. It was a horrible feeling when the first thing Clementine saw when she looked inside was a picture of Lee, the edges ripped from being torn from a larger picture. Why did she steal it from the Pharmacy that night in Macon? Or better yet, why did she still keep it after all these months? She knew it would have been better just to get rid of it after Lee died, but after trying fourteen different times, Clementine just couldn't bring herself to do it. No matter what she said about getting over Lee, there was still some part of her that missed him.

Clementine touched her D-Cap – that's what Omid had called it. It was a gift from her father back when she was very little; making it the only memento she had left to remember her family. Lee's blood had stained the cap when she had shot him in Savannah. No matter how hard she tried to rub it clean, the stain would never fade. It would always be there, haunting her.

Pocketing the photo, Clementine continued to dig through her backpack and found another picture, one made crudely out of crayons. It was a picture she had drawn of her of her old friend, Kenny, and his family, Katjaa and Duck. She remembered how she had drawn it the same day Katjaa and Duck had died, as if something that was predestined. She took a moment to remember them fondly: Kenny was loud and rude at time, but always kind and compassionate at others. Katjaa was every bit of a mother as Clementine thought her to be, though had a weak will in the end. Duck…Duck always annoyed Clementine with his pranks and loud mouth, but he meant well and that's what counts.

Pocketing the drawing, Clementine searched again and _finally_ found the lighter at the bottom of the bag. She turned the spark wheel to test it – it still had some fuel left. Good. She zipped her backpack up and stashed it back in the hollow space of the log.

Clementine walked back over to the firewood and flicked the lighter again, igniting it. She took out one of the pieces of scrap paper that had littered her bag and touched the flame with its tip, setting the paper on fire. She carefully set the burning paper on of the few dry sticks of wood in the stack, sighing in relief when she heard the soft cackling of the embers.

"Better," said Clementine, "but still not enough. The flames are too low."

She needed more if the flames were going to stand a chance against this drizzle. She couldn't use anymore of the firewood she had collected – it was too wet to burn. And she highly doubted the North Carolina license plate in the grass would help much. She had no other choice left.

She pulled out the picture she had collected from her backpack, of Lee and Kenny's family. They would definitely burn. Tossing the picture of Kenny's family was easy. Though grateful for everything they did, their role in her life didn't have that heart wrenching effect on her when she lost them. Throwing away Lee's picture was another story. She owed that man for everything. Had it not been for him, she would have died in that tree house in her backyard, whether from starvation or if a Walker got lucky. Lee saved her, clothed her, fed her, and taught her how to make the difficult choices she needed to survive. And this was one of those choices.

Staring at that man's smiling face one last time, Clementine held her hand over the fire and, taking a deep breath, she let go.

Clementine felt something twist in her stomach; she felt like she was ready to throw up. No matter how much she wanted to look away, she knew that she couldn't ignore her problems. She needed to learn to let go. And so she sat back, watching the photograph curl and blacken in the blaze.

The forest was unnaturally quiet; even the crackling flames seemed to have gone silent in Clementine's ears. She was alone now. Truly alone. She had nothing left but to keep moving, hoping against hope that this Wellington place would turn out to be everything they hoped. But even if they manage to make it that far, what then? Everyone she knew was dead, the Walkers were growing by the hundreds every day, and her only companion hated her. It wouldn't surprise her if the Christa killed Clementine while she slept.

Maybe it wasn't worth it anymore…maybe she should just…give up. The world was already infected and there was no hope of restoring a world that was already dead. At this point, she was fighting a losing battle. Perhaps it was time to stop fighting and accept the truth: she was going to die, sooner or later. And, deep down, Clementine wanted it to be sooner – no point in dragging it out.

Clementine stared at the fire that was starting to build into a powerful blaze. She had never noticed before how beautiful the dancing flames looked, nor how invitingly warm they felt. It had been months since she felt warm. Clementine scooted closer to the fire, enjoying the heat washing over her numb body. It felt so wonderful…she wanted to get closer…she wanted to touch it. Her hands edged closer and closer to the fire; she could feel the embers licking against her palms.

Clementine leaned in closer…she wanted to feel warm…forever…

"Where the fuck is she?"

"I swear to God, I don't know!"

"Christa," Clementine gasped, snapping out of her trance.

She definitely heard Christa's voice and someone else too. It was coming from somewhere deep in the woods. Clementine slowly stood up and walked in the direction she heard the voices from. A bird cawed somewhere far away; Clementine jumped. Great. Paranoia was starting to get to her. She needed to find Christa and get the fuck out of this forest. She was done with nature.

Clementine pushed through the bushes and branches, following the voices of Christa and the other person.

"Don't you fucking lie to me! I know you're traveling with her! Tell me the fucking truth or I'll shove a bullet down your fucking throat!"

Clementine finally spotted Christa through the trees, standing opposite to the person holding her at gun point. Clementine quickly ducked behind the closest tree, observing the scene. It looked like there was only one person though Clementine couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman underneath that hooded black trench coat. Even the assailant's voice was indecipherable – he/she spoke in a monotone. The only thing that stood out to Clementine was the large cracked skull printed on the back of the coat.

"You have one last chance to tell me where she is," said the assailant.

"I - I'm telling you the truth," Christa stammered.

Wrong answer. The black-coated attacker showed no hesitation as he/she stomped on Christa's kneecap. Clementine winced; she could actually hear the bones shattering underneath Christa's painful wails. But the attacker didn't stop. He/she stomped on the kneecap again and again until Christa's leg bent into a position that should have been physically impossible. But despite all the pain, despite having her leg broken beyond repair, Christa did not say a word. The attacker wasn't happy.

"I am going to ask one last time, bitch," said the attacker, pressing the barrel of her gun to Christa's forehead. "That little girl you've been traveling with, the one with the baseball cap. I want to know where she is – right – this – second."

"I – don't – know!" Christa hissed.

Clementine choked on her own breath. Having believed she blamed her for Omid's death, she would have thought that Christa would sell her out at the drop of a hat. But she wasn't; she was trying to keep her safe, trying to protect her from the stranger that wanted her for some reason. Maybe Christa didn't hate her after all. And if that was the case, Clementine needed to help her.

Clementine looked around the forest floor, searching for something that might distract the attacker. There! A rock! Clementine picked it up, testing its weight in her hand. If she threw it at the attacker's head, maybe…

_**BANG!**_

Clementine froze as forest suddenly rang with the sound of a gunshot. She slowly turned around, drawn to the sound of something large hitting the smooth forest floor. Clementine clasped a hand over her mouth, keeping the bile from escaping her throat. Christa's wide, empty eyes were staring at her through the darkness, blood splattered across her forehead. The attacker holstered the gun in his/her coat pocket, kicking Christa in the head one last time for good measure.

Clementine was numb. Her mind kept saying '_move, move, move_' over and over again, but her legs weren't listening. The image of Christa's dead eyes staring at her kept blocking out her other thoughts. The hooded killer shuffled around for a moment, seemingly at a loss of what to do next. Maybe if Clementine was lucky, the killer wouldn't notice her. If she just stood really still, she could get by unnoticed –

Something clattered at her feet – she dropped the rock.

_**BANG!**_

Clementine fell on her back, crying out to the fresh wave of pain coursing up and down her right arm. She pressed her free hand over her shoulder; the blood was starting to soak through her shirt and slip between her fingers. She heard the attacker's footsteps coming closer accompanied by the sound of a fresh magazine being inserted. She needed to get up, she needed to move now!

Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, Clementine stumbled to her feet and making a break for it through the gaps in the trees. Another gunshot rang; the bark of a nearby tree exploded in her face. But Clementine ignored the flying wood and kept on running, never daring to look back as the shooters footsteps echoed close behind her.

Day 843 – the day Christa died – and the day she might, too.

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**To any of you who actually made it this far, I commend you. Knowing how many stories there are like this, I'm not expecting a lot of positive responses, but being able to receive any response is good enough for me. If anyone is even remotely interested in seeing where this story goes and learning why the mystery shooter is after Clementine, please feel free to click the alert button, or even leave a review. Until next time!**


	2. The River Runs Cold

**The Walking Dead: Broken**

The Walking Dead Game ©Telltale Games

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**Episode Two: The River Runs Cold**

Just keep running, don't stop, can't look back – Clementine repeated this mantra over and over in her head.

But no matter how fast she ran, she could still hear the solid footsteps of her pursuer close behind. As another gunshot rang out through the forest, tripped on her feet and hit the ground with her shoulder, hissing from the fresh wave of pain that ran up and down her arm. Another gunshot went off; the dirt near Clementine's feet exploded. Clementine pressed her thumb against her bullet wound, trying to stop the bleeding, as she desperately crawled back to her feet and took off running again.

Though she told herself not to, Clementine chanced a look behind her.

It was like watching a shadow dance between the trees; his/her black trench coat blended perfectly with the background of the dark forest. The black-hooded pursuer took another shot. The bark of a nearby tree exploded in Clementine's face, causing her to stumble but not fall. She needed to get out of their line of sight.

Over the rocks and through the bushes, Clementine came to a small partly clear area in the forest and cursed her luck. This was not a good place for hiding. She heard the bushes rustle and ducked behind the closest tree just as the black-hooded assailant stepped into view. The attacker stopped, pistol trained at his/her side, and looked around. He/she couldn't see the girl anywhere. Maybe she was hiding behind one of the sparse tree? The black-hooded pursuer silently stepped up to one of the trees and peeked around with his/her pistol held forward. She wasn't there.

"I know you're here, girl," said the black-hooded shooter. "Show yourself. I will find you."

The black-hooded shooter peeked around another tree – nothing. On the other side of the clearing, Clementine peeked around her cover and stared at the back of her pursuer. The white, cracked skull stood out prominently against the black background. Clementine feared, for just a second, that the skull print's hollow eyes were staring into her soul. It wouldn't surprise her. She had heard rumors of the skull before and of the person it was associated with.

"That skull on your back!" Clementine yelled, her voice echoing against the rain and thunder. "I know who you are! You're the Black Death, aren't you?"

"So you've heard of me," said the Black Death, kick aside one of the rocks. Nothing. "Then that means you know what I'm capable of. It's only a matter of time before I find you."

"Why?" Clementine asked, finding it harder to breathe. "Why is one of the Reapers chasing after me? I thought you guys were supposed to be killing the Walkers, not humans!"

"That's always been a misconception," said the Black Death, poking around another tree. "People create stories of the Reapers as heroes of humanity, trying to inspire hope into those who have already given up. But that's just a lie. We're just like everyone else – we're only looking out for ourselves."

"Then why come after me?" Clementine asked again.

"How many people have suffered because of you?" said The Black Death. "How many people had to die so that you could live? That girl in the gas station, the family you killed for food, that pregnant woman in Columbia, or what about that boy you kicked into a group of Soulless so that you could escape? You have as much blood on your hand as the Soulless"

"I did what I had to survive," Clementine retorted. "How do you even know about all that?"

"I've followed you for the longest time, Clementine," said the Black Death. "You have taken so much from other, and now," The Black Death appeared around the tree, pressing the barrel of his/her gun to Clementine's forehead "I'm going to take everything from you."

His/her finger was eager to pull the trigger and Clementine had her back against the tree. Clementine's natural instinct was to find back, but her brain was telling her not to do anything stupid. If even half the rumors were true, she knew there was no chance of going against the Black Death on her own. And by the sound of the hungry moans, it sounded like they weren't alone.

Clementine had never been so happy to see a Walker than she did now. Likely drawn by all the noise Clementine and Black Death were making, a rotten-skinned woman tumbled through the bushes, swinging her mangled arms at the Black Death. The Black Death looked away from Clementine for just a second, just long enough for her to sneak away undetected. As she climbed over the body of a fallen tree, gunshots sounded through the woods again. The Walker didn't last as long as she had hoped.

Running, running, running…she just kept running. She needed to put some distance between her and the soon-to-be arriving Walkers. Or worse, the Black Death.

Clementine sighed in relief as another clearing appeared before her, but quickly pressed her heels into the dirt and fell on her ass to stop herself. There was a large roaring river blocking her path. The river was too far to jump across, too deep to wade across, and was moving too fast for her to risk crossing without hurting herself. She reached another dead-end. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Clementine was considering heading back the way she came, hoping the Black Death would overlook her in the midst of the Walkers. But then someone grabbed her from behind and lifted her off the ground, pinning her arms to her side. The Black Death easily carried her with only one arm in spite of Clementine's ceaseless struggling.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Clementine screamed.

"Then stop fucking running," the Black Death growled in her ear.

Clementine kicked at the Black Death's side as hard as she could, but the hooded Reaper didn't feel a thing; his/her abdominals were hard as rocks. So she had to fall back on her surefire method of escape. She craned her neck over the Black Death's hand and bit down on the Reaper's thumb; enough to draw blood.

"FUCK!" the Black Death yelled. "Let go, you little bitch!"

But Clementine wouldn't let go. She bit down on his/her thumb a second time and buried her teeth deeper into the Black Death's skin; Clementine could taste his/her blood slipping down her throat. With a hiss, the Black Death dropped Clementine in favor of tending to his/her bleeding thumb. This was her chance to escape.

Clementine saw a log that was just small enough for her to slip through without the Black Death following. The slid over to the entrance, ducked down on her hands and feet and started to crawl inside the hollow trunk. She didn't get very far. Clementine had barely managed to get three feet inside before the Black Death grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her back in one clean motion.

The Black Death pulled Clementine off the ground by her ankle and when she was high enough in the air, he/she flipped the girl over and threw her back down on her back. Clementine choked on her breath; the bullet wound on her shoulder tingled painfully. Clementine slowly tried to prop herself up by her elbows, but the Black Death pushed her back down, using his/her knee to pin the girl to the ground. Having forgone the gun, the Black Death reached down to her boot and pulled out a serrated, black-steel hunting knife.

"I've had just about enough of your shit," said the Black Death. "Just die already."

The Black Death jabbed the knife down on Clementine, who turned her head at the last second so that the knife barely missed her by a couple of inches. The Black Death pulled back and tried again; this time Clementine turned her head in the other direction. The Black Death growled in frustration. He/she grabbed Clementine's face roughly by the chin, keeping her from moving again. Clementine kicked and punched, but the Black Death wasn't letting go.

The Black Death pulled back her knife for a third time and swung down hard; blood splattered in every direction. Oddly enough, it wasn't Clementine's blood. She followed arm and craned her neck back to the Walker that had crawled only a few feet from Clementine's face; the Black Death's knife buried in its skull.

"Damn Soulless," the Black Death grunted. He/she ripped the knife back from the Walker's skull, wiping the blood off with Clementine's shirt, much to her indignation. He/she stood up as the sounds of hungry moaned came closer. "Of course there would be more of them. Way to go, kid."

"You're blaming me for this?" Clementine scowled as she got back on her feet. "I'm not the one that went gun crazy a few minutes ago!"

The Black Death looked ready to retort when the rustling of the bushes took their attention away. There must have been two dozen Deadlings surrounding them, some of them Walkers and others were Crawlers.

"For Fuck's sake," said the Black Death.

The Black Death flipped the hunter's knife in his/her hand and stabbed the nearest Walker in the eye, pushing until it breach through the back of its skull. He/she pulled back, dropping the Walker, and made a clean-cut across the neck of another Walker to separate the head from the body; the Black Death crushed its skull under his/her foot. A lucky Walker managed to sneak up behind the Black Death and grabbed him/her by the shoulders, ready bite at the neck. Black Death reach over his/her shoulder and pushed the Walker off before spinning around with a solid high kick, sending the Walker's head flying into the river.

Clementine watched the Black Death from afar, stunned with astonishment. The way he/she took out the Walkers despite being vastly outnumbered – maybe there was some truth to the rumors after all. But Clementine didn't have time to be amazed. A Walker had managed to slip through undetected and grabbed her by the arm, trying to pull her closer for a bite. The only thing separating them was the pair of trees that the Walker had managed to get itself stuck in. Clementine put all her weight into pulling away and ripped the Walker's rotted arm from its socket.

That was too close. Screw this; she needed to get out of here while she had the chance.

Making sure that the Black Death was distracted by the Walkers, Clementine made a break for the trees. Of course it wasn't going to be that easy, not with the Walker's blocking her path. She managed to duck under the arms of a particularly gangly Walker and dived between the legs of a Walker that strangely looked like her old friend Ben. Clementine kicked the college Walker in the ass, throwing it into another pair of Walkers while she crawled back to her feet.

As she stood up and looked around, Clementine was starting to think there was no chance of getting out. The Black Death was mowing down Walkers left and right without signs of stopping. If she managed to kill all of them, she would be gunning after Clementine next. But if the Walkers did get the upper hand, that would leave her alone with a whole swarm of flesh eaters. There had to be some way she could come out alive in this – she didn't sacrifice for two years just to die like some helpless cattle.

And then it hit her: the river! The riptide would be too strong for her to swim in and there was always a chance of drowning, but at least she would be carried away to somewhere safe. Hopefully.

Clementine went over the idea in her head and decided it was better than taking her chances here. She ducked around a Walker and hopped over the rocks; the river was within her sights. She was close to reaching the edge. She was going to make it!

And then…agony.

Clementine felt a sharp sting of pain in her back and suddenly felt very dizzy, finding it very difficult to stand. She coughed; blood fell from her lips. With a shiver of anxiety, Clementine reached to the point in her back where she felt the sting and her finger touched the cold edge of serrated metal. The Black Death had got her – she literally stabbed Clementine in the back.

Her vision was starting to become blurry and the sound of the Walkers moaning sounded farther away. She was starting to feel cold; she shivered. But she wasn't going to stop. If she was going to die, it was going to be on her own terms, not someone else's. As so, barely conscious of what she was doing, Clementine stumbled forward and tripped over the edge of the river bank, feeling the cold rush of the water run over her.

And slowly…her world faded into black.

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**So…that was a thing. I don't really feel too confident in this chapter much, mostly because I though the action sequences were rather stiff and sometime broken, but it's a work in progress. If anything, I'm proud that I was able to introduce my original concept to the Walking Dead universe, the people referred to as Reapers. They will be elaborated more in the next chapter along with the introduction of Ava, but don't go thinking that the Reapers are like some super-powered heroes. They're just normal humans who have qualities that make them stand out more than most people. You'll find out next time.**


	3. Ava

**The Walking Dead: Broken**

The Walking Dead Game ©Telltale Games

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**Episode Three: Ava**

When morning came, the storm had passed over. The humming of the twittering robins gave the illusion of serenity. But all it takes is one look to see the ugliness hidden within the trees. Ugliness that continues to walk even after death.

As the sun was just beginning to climb over the horizon, a single walker crawled out of the forest brush and dragged its body towards the river, drawn in by the sound of the raging flow. With one arm missing and both of its legs snapped, the Walker crawled toward the river at a snail's –

The Walker heard someone coming up from behind, turned, and growled before a metal traffic sign impaled its skull. Groaning at the splatter of inky-black blood on her hands, Ava wiped it off with the ratty towel that she had been smart to bring.

Ava was a tall and physically fit African-American woman roughly between the ages of eighteen and twenty with dark hair done up in corn rows; better to keep her hair out-of-the-way when she really needed to. Her soft brown eyes wandered over the Walker's body. There were occasions when Walkers unknowingly carried items that were useful. This was not such a case.

Ava threw the bloodied towel away – she wasn't going to risk infection – and grabbed her fishing pole and tackle box. After a big storm like last night, this was prime opportunity to go fishing and hopeful score a big breakfast. She walked over to the broken section of what used to be a flight of wooden stairs and carefully climbed down to the river's edge.

Ava looked up and down the river's edge. It didn't look like the storm had carried too much down the stream. Just a few pieces of driftwood, some empty metal cans, and some miscellaneous items that were of no use. Surprisingly, the broken half of the camping canoe was still lodged in the rocks. Ava sighed. As she set up her rod and bait, Ava deeply hoped that she would catch some fish this time. It had been a few days since she had eaten something other than canned beans.

"Come on, give me something good," said Ava, casting out her line.

The lure hit the water with a _plop_ and Ava sat back, waiting. She understood that activities like fishing required patience and rather than stress herself out, she might as well catch up on some long needed sleep. Besides, it wasn't like she was gonna get anything in the first – the line suddenly tugged and the reel started to spin. Wow, that was fast.

"Holy shit!" Ava said shockingly, grabbing the pole and started to pull her catch in. "I swear, if this is another leather boot, I am gonna – " And with one powerful tug, Ava ripped her prize from the river. "Well, technically, it's not a boot."

It was a hat. A small purple baseball cap with a large printed 'D' was dragging on her fish-hook. There was also a bit of blood splattered on it; perhaps from the owner? It wouldn't be hard to believe that the storm had carried the cap down the river, but Ava got the strangest feeling that this hat was not too far from its owner. Ava searched the riverbed and, with a gasp, spotted someone washed up on the rocks downstream.

It was a little girl.

* * *

Clementine groaned weakly; her whole body felt like shit

As the darkness of her vision began to fade, she came aware of the world around her for the first time. Staring up into the canopy of trees, Clementine realized she was back in the forest, but the sound of rushing water close by meant she was still close to the river. Clementine sat up; the worn blanket covering her fell off.

It looked like she was at someone's campsite. Two large bass were on cooking over the well-kept campfire and a handmade tent was pitched under a pair of benches. There was only one sleeping bag and a large hiking bag in the tent, indicating that only one person used this campsite. Good. She could deal with one person if she needed to get away, so long as it wasn't the Black Death.

Clementine flinched; her shoulder stung like hell. As she looked over herself, Clementine realized that her chest and right shoulder had been heavily bandaged. She also realized that she wasn't wearing anything underneath the blanket. She brought the blanket closer to herself. Clementine took a quick survey around the campsite and spotted her clothes hanging on a line of rope, probably to dry. Clementine jumped up and grabbed them quickly – last thing she wanted to do was to die naked.

Pulling on her clothes and tying her shoes, Clementine still felt like something was missing. She touched her head. Her cap! Her precious cap was missing! Clementine looked around again and found her cap left on a small tree stump near the campfire. But that wasn't the only thing she found.

As she was reunited with her baseball cap, Clementine also picked up the weapon that had sat next to it. It was the Black Death's hunting knife. The steel of the blade was made of a glimmering black alloy and the grip was made of a material that made it easy to grip without hurting the hand. It was a flawless knife. Absolutely perfect. It looks like it had been polished recently…

A branch snapped close by; Clementine jumped.

Now aware of the approaching footsteps, Clementine ducked behind one of the trees with the black knife gripped in her hand. Whether or not this person saved her, Clementine didn't know if she could trust them. She knew from experience that trusting complete strangers could come back to bite her in the ass. If she hadn't been so trusting…Lee would still be…

The rustling footsteps stopped. Clementine peeked around the trunk and searched the campsite, though oddly enough she didn't see any signs of people, alive or dead. Clementine hummed to herself in thought. She definitely heard someone coming from that direction. Did they notice Clementine was missing and went to look for her? If so, maybe she could use this chance to scavenge some supplies and leave before they found out. She didn't want to seem ungrateful, but she didn't feel like dealing with strangers now.

Just as Clementine stepped out from her hiding place, a hand reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. The next thing she knew, she was lying on her back with the knife pressed against her neck, staring up at an older woman without her hazy vision.

"Oh my god, I'm _so_ sorry," Ava apologized. She grabbed Clementine's hand and pulled her up to her feet, dusting dirt off her clothes. "I thought you might be a scavenger or one of them Creepers. I didn't mean to flip you like that."

"It's no – " Clementine coughed. "It's no problem." Once semi-clean, Ava flipped the knife and held the handle out for Clementine to take. She must have thought it belonged to her. Clementine took it; best not to be weaponless at this time. "Are you the one who saved me?"

"Yeah, that's me," said Ava, taking a seat at the campfire. Clementine took a seat opposite of her. "I was stopping by the river, killing a few Creepers and catching some fish when I spotted you just down a ways from me. I swam out to you and pulled you to shore. You were a real mess. Bullet wound, knife in the back – you look like you'd been to hell and back."

"It wasn't hell," Clementine grumbled. "But this world is pretty close to it. With the Walkers, I mean."

"Walkers, huh?" said Ava. "That's a good name. I call them Creepers myself, but we all have our preferences. Either way, I brought you back to my camp and tried to stitch you up as best I could. Used the last of the medicine and bandages that I had, but I managed. The bullet wound will fade eventually, but that knife got into you pretty deep. That's gonna leave a nasty scar."

"I don't care," said Clementine. "I'm used to scars by now."

"I noticed that when I was stripping you to dry your clothes," said Ava. Clementine leaned back a little, her gripping the black knife. Ava was quick to notice "Oh, relax. It's not like I'm one of those creepy pedophiles that took advantage of you in your sleep. I used to treat my little sister's wounds, so it's not like anything I haven't seen before."

"So you're be okay with a total stranger taking your clothes off?" Clementine retorted.

"Fair point," said Ava. "And since you brought the subject up, we still haven't gotten around to introducing ourselves. I'm Ava. And you are…?"

"Clementine."

"Nice to meet you, Clementine," Ava greeted pleasantly. See poked at the fire, trying to make it burn faster. "I'd offer you something to eat since it looks like you haven't had a good meal in a while, but the fish ain't done cooking yet."

"I can wait," said Clementine, staring at the fish with hungry eyes.

"Not like you have a choice," said Ava. "Maybe to pass the time, you can tell me what you were doing floating down the river in the first place. Doubt it was some Creeper that stuck that knife into your back. Did you run into a group of raiders?"

"No, I was running away from the Black Death," said Clementine.

The reaction would have been funny had the conversation not been serious. At the mere mention of the Black Death, Ava toppled backwards over the log and hit the tree supporting her tent with the back of her head. The branches shook from the impact and the loose tent collapsed on top of Ava. Clementine rolled her eyes as she watched Ava struggle to find her way out. How could a woman this careless have survived the Walkers for so long?

"The Black Death?" Ava shrieked, finally throwing off the tent. Taking a deep breath, Ava sat back down and stared straight into Clementine's eye. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," said Clementine. "He killed my friend Christa and started chasing after me. He would have killed me too if the Walkers hadn't shown up. I barely managed to escape from the river while he was fighting them off, but…" She looked down at the black hunting knife. "Either way, I'm just lucky to be alive."

"Lucky doesn't even begin to describe it," said Ava. "It's more like miraculous. You've heard the rumors about the five Reapers, haven't you?"

"Who hasn't?" said Clementine. "Sixteen months ago, people stared spreading stories about these 'invincible' humans that could take on herds of Walkers single-handedly. They even started making up these goofy nicknames for them: Black Death, Spider, Bear, Deadeye, and the General." She stared down at her feet. "I didn't used to believe if those silly rumors, especially when they started talking about aliens and super powers, but…"

"But after seeing one of the Reapers in person, you're starting to reconsider?" asked Ava.

"They're still only humans, but they just play it smarter than everyone else," said Clementine. "Like my friend Molly from Savannah. She's good at killing the Walkers, but even she can't take on a whole herd by herself."

"Who's Molly?" said Ava.

"That was her name before every started calling her Spider," Clementine explained.

"Wait, so you've already met two of the Reapers and survived?" said Ava, sounding impressed. "I don't whether to say if you're lucky or cursed."

"Molly's a good person," Clementine said with certainty. "People are just making up those rumors because she's smarter than most people, she understands what needs to be done to survive. All of them understand what needs to be done, even if the right choice is absolutely horrible."

"So why was the Black Death after you?" asked Ava.

"He said I needed to be punished for hurting other people," said Clementine seriously. "But that sounds hypocritical coming from one of the Reapers. I think he's just using that as an excuse to justify is reasons for killing me. But the thing is…I don't know why he wants to kill me. He says he's been following me for years, but I've never met him before until yesterday."

"Well, whatever the case may be, you probably don't have long before he realizes you aren't dead," Ava stated. "If any of the rumors are true, then the Black Death used to be a big-game hunter before the world went to hell. He's probably looking for your body now."

"I forgot about that!" Clementine gasped. She scrambled up to her feet and pocketed the black knife; she needed some way of protecting herself. "I shouldn't be here! If the Walkers didn't kill him, he'll figure out I didn't die in the river and come looking for me! I need to go!"

"Well, you can't go anywhere without supplies," said Ava casually, inspecting her bass. Just a little more. "It was a week ago, but I thought I saw a family camped out north from here. Sweet old couple with a daughter around your age. And a cute little doggy, too." She poked at the fire again. "We'll go just as soon as the food is done cooking."

"We?" Clementine repeated; the word felt foreign in her mouth.

"If that Black Death guy is looking for you, he's gonna figure out you had help," Ava said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And when he finds out I helped you, he'll probably torture me for information and kill me when he's done. Either that, or he'll just ignore me."

"That's not going to happen," said Clementine.

"Which is why I don't want to take my chances staying here," said Ava. "Besides, I wouldn't feel right about leaving a little girl all alone in the middle of the woods where Creepers might be lurking. We'll travel together for a little while. At least until we find some place safe to stay."

"Christa and I were headed to Wellington before we ran into the Black Death," said Clementine helpfully.

"Yeah, I heard of that place," said Ava. "It's supposed to be a survivor community in Ohio, close to the Michigan border. Plenty of fresh water, lots of flat land, and the extreme cold keeps the Creepers at bay. I wasn't really planning to go there myself, seeing as how the other survivor communities went."

"It's the only plan I have," said Clementine.

"Then I guess it's the only plan I have too," said Ava. "I'll help you get as far as Wellington and if everything turns out all right, maybe I'll decide to stay myself. Guess we'll just have to see when we get there." Looking the bass over once more, Ava gave a satisfied grunt and took both fish off the fire, offering one to Clementine. She looked hesitant to accept. "Relax. Everything's going to fine."

Clementine wanted to scoff. Everyone always said that, but they never meant it.

But nonetheless, Clementine accepted the fish and sat down on the log across from Ava. She didn't have much of an appetite – coming close to death can do that to a person – and instead chose to watch Ava eat. This woman is too trusting. She is willing to help out a complete stranger like Clementine without thinking of the consequences. She probably didn't think Clementine was a threat because she was a child like so many people before. It wouldn't be that hard to stab her in the back when her back was turned.

But Clementine stopped and thought for a moment. If Ava was so willing to trust Clementine, then she could use that to her advantage. Ava was obviously a strong woman to have survived the Walkers for so long and she did have a long of valuable supplies. Since Clementine had lost her backpack, she was going to need them if she was going to make it to Wellington.

And so Clementine decided: she would tag along with Ava until she wasn't useful anymore. Then she would use her as a shield against the Walkers. It might have seemed harsh, but it was just like the Black Death said: she needed to look out for herself.

* * *

**Well, that was more of an introduction chapter than anything else, but nothing really exciting. But at the very least, we get a better idea of who the Reapers are and understand just how dangerous they can be. Molly is already well-known and the Black Death will appear as the central antagonist of this story. If things go well, I may hint towards the other Reapers too. And we get a peek at the dark nature of Clementine's mind: willing to take advantage of other people so that she can look out for herself.**

**Then next chapter will jump straight back into the storyline with the campsite and Sam, but I'm throwing in a little something for the readers. Like the game, the readers will have the chance to make an important decision that will affect the outcome of the storyline. The choices are:**

**A) Clementine kills Sam**

**B) Clementine lets Sam go**

**I accept reviews or PMs. The final polls will end next week. Until then, stay tuned for the next chapter.**


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